


Fuck Gabriel, Send Glitter

by writingwithwifi



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Glitter, Heaven vs. Hell, Ineffable Husbands if you look closely, Revenge, Some bad language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:46:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25431835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingwithwifi/pseuds/writingwithwifi
Summary: The one and only time Aziraphale expressed doubt about his ‘softness’ – AKA the gut that Gabriel told him to lose – Crowley sent twenty envelopes filled with glitter to Heaven.Written based on a prompt by AO3 user TiaLewise
Comments: 20
Kudos: 66





	Fuck Gabriel, Send Glitter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TiaLewise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiaLewise/gifts).



The one and only time Aziraphale expressed doubt about his ‘softness’ – AKA the gut that Gabriel told him to lose – Crowley sent twenty envelopes filled with glitter to Heaven.

“Oh, Crowley, it was horrible!” Aziraphale gave a dainty shudder and clasped his cocoa. “Gabriel reminded me of the sword and everything, it looks like Armageddon is going to be really, truly inevitable.”  
Crowley was pacing back and forth with teeth bared, his glasses clenched in one fist. He’d miracled the cocoa for a shaken Aziraphale, who’d proceeded to miracle up some taste for it as well.  
“Oh, and then he said that I need to lose my gut in preparation for the war! I mean how rude—”  
“He WHAT?” Crowley snarled. “He said WHAT?”  
“T-that I should lose the gut?”  
“Arghhh, Gabriel!” Crowley bared his teeth again and crushed his glasses between his fingers. Aziraphale went to repair them but Crowley had already hurled them into a bookshelf.  
“Crowley, be careful –”  
“How dare he?!” Crowley seemed even angrier than a moment ago.  
“How dare he what?” Aziraphale sipped his cocoa. “Talk about the sword?”  
“No! Say that you need to lose the gut!” Crowley slammed his fist into the table in front of the angel.  
“Well, I do really, Crowley… I’ve gotten rather soft over the last few centuries, I have developed quite a bit of a pudge…”  
“NO, you’re perfectly fine as you are!” Crowley’s irises were blown to the edge of his eyes, a sure fire sign that he was pissed off. “I will not have that bastard ruining your self-confidence again! And right before Armageddon, as well!”  
“Oh, Crowley, I appreciate your displeasure but truly, there’s no reason to get so upset –"  
“I’ve got to go, angel, I’ve got a few blows to send up there.” The demon pointed violently at the ceiling, stormed out of the bookshop, and left a dust cloud in the Bentley’s wake.

Rather fortunately, there was a Hobbycraft a few roads down from Crowley’s flat. Crowley hated the place, he’d vowed once to never even look at the shop again (“But Crowley, they stock some lovely wool!” “I don’t care, angel, why did they have to replace a perfectly good bar with a shop full of unicorn vomit?”) but he hated Heaven more. And no one insulted his angel except him.  
So he grit his teeth, replaced his glasses, and bought a pack of twenty black envelopes.

“Gabriel, you’ve received a sizeable delivery from Hell.” Uriel placed a large package onto Gabriel’s desk and stepped back. “I’d be wary.”  
“Hm?” Gabriel opened the box and stared inside. “It’s only envelopes, Uriel, I don’t think they can put hellfire in envelopes.”  
The second Gabriel picked up the first envelope, the entire package went up in a cloud of sparkle. Straight from the middle of the explosion extended a large middle finger.  
“HEY GABRIEL! FUCK YOU!” Screamed the finger, and vanished.  
“Well.” Gabriel looked rather like a cartoon character who had narrowly escaped a death from an off-screen firework.  
“Shall… shall I send anything in return?” Sandalphon asked from behind him.  
“Not at present, Sandalphon. Thank you.”  
Glitter had been Crowley’s best invention, and Heaven was picking it out of the desk chairs for the rest of eternity.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Tia for letting me use her prompt!


End file.
